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November 6, 2012

Where do you find Ordinary Magic?

"Another
incredible place! They took Ann Coffaro and I on a guided bird walk. I
saw one hundred and twenty new birds in India. My favorite was the
Bee-eater. Talk about birding in style! A porter to carry the scope and
refreshing drinks on a tray at the end of the trail."

~ Tara O'Leary, India 2012.

Each time I
visit India, I find myself slipping between the veils of past and
present, of luxury and the ordinary. I am reminded how thin the line is
between the extraordinary and the everyday.

Devi Garh is my favorite hotel of the program,
an 18th century palace fort that royally commands the valley and looks
out over the Aravalli hills. Bo-chic in style, its modern interiors are
minimalist, austere five-star elegance, a bit "Indian Zen."

The
surrounding natural landscape offers solace. The colorful village
below, with intermittent baby blue houses, offers charm. I learned the
motive for this brilliant color is two-fold: the paint keeps insects
away and also praises lord Krishna. On my first visit to
this divine place, I left the fairy tale world of the palace hotel, the
bathtubs filled with rose petals and airy verandas, and went for a walk
in the village down the hill.

Barefoot
shop owners sat before scales on old wooden counters or on the floor.
Some were turbaned, some not. We nodded hello to each other as I passed.
Women
carried food or water jugs on their heads, gliding gracefully in their
saris, as vibrantly colored as the fruits and vegetables spread out on
blankets and carts. The village astrologer sat on the corner, dressed in
red next to a sky-blue wall, waiting for a consultation. Carts of
vegetables displayed local varieties with names like "Lady Fingers" and
"Gentleman's Thumbs."

I followed some of the women through a doorway and found an old man making the

terra cotta pots
used to store cool water. With white hair and beard, he stooped and
twirled his wheel with a stick. Once it got going to the speed he was
happy with, he threw some clay in the middle and started molding. Three
small pots were produced within minutes:

Devi Ghar Village Potter

These
are the moments I cherish. Easing into the pace of local life and
discovering the artfulness of a simple, age-old skill. Watching an old
man's hands shape clay into pots, or the hands of the women easing the
pots onto their heads, calling their little ones to follow down the
road. So often travel to a faraway spot reminds us to appreciate the
magic of everyday life. The finer elements of this particular program always bring me back to the simple pleasures that lend soulfulness.